The Metallurgist
by kallmered
Summary: Bucky wakes in Wakanda and is swiftly sent to the underground queen of metallurgy, in the infamous Isle of Skye. While in Skye, the land heals him more than he ever expected. Even more, he finds this Scottish metallurgist a welcome distraction from his own troubled mind.
1. Chapter 1

So I wrote this back in 2017 but I thought it would be good to wait for Black Panther- but I just couldn't! I will be seeing it on Sunday, finally. Although some spoilers did get to me...

Enjoy!

The Metallurgist

After waking in a Wakandan village with a pounding headache and the phantom pain of his missing arm, Shuri and an on-site doctor took one look at him and called for T'Challa. The king himself had looked at his decidedly less broody yet still broken form and proclaimed a trip was in order. The young king's words took form in the sudden action of his inner circle. His Dora Milaje warriors shuffled out, except for Okoye, who now shadowed the king as they walked out of the med bay.

Looking now, out the window of a private Wakandan jet, Bucky saw nothing but green rising up out of the ocean to greet them.

Scotland, of all places in the whole world. While briefings had been the only norm in his life- as it were as Hydra's Winter Soldier- had taken him all over, but to have an unstained view of the infamous highlands wasn't something that one James Buchanan Barnes could have ever hoped to see. Apparently, though, the king of Wakanda was taking him to the infamous isle of Skye. For whatever reason, he had no clue.

A whisper in front of his seat had him glancing over to Shuri, who had been tagged along, creeping over crept over quietly to warn T'Challa they were landing. Without so much as a snort, the young king straightened himself from a nap and was alert once more. _Cat nap_.

Bucky couldn't resist the smirk that threatened so he rubbed the stubble of his face to hid it, though Okoye had seen. She even gave him a cheeky grin.

It was a good sign for him, they all knew. The doctors told them as much during his cryo debrief with kids hanging around him, that normal emotions should come back to him over time. The long sleep he'd just come out of was one without the usual mind-numbing drugs Hydra routinely pumped him full of, which cut out dreams and usual REM cycles. The peaceful sleep he'd just defrosted from allowed normal synapses to occur in his brain during that time and he felt more like himself than he had in a long time. Although he was sure he'd never be the carefree, skirt-chasing army sergeant he once was, he was at least recovering.

The bump of turbulence told him he'd withdrawn again and Shuri had long since taken her seat and Okoye had taken out a tablet. They were landing and he's missed much of the landscape of Scotland.

 _Damn_. He thought as he took the chance to see it now, watching beads of water zip along the windows and the deepest green he'd ever seen rose up closer.

Time was something he wasn't sure he understood anymore. At least the flight went quickly.

As the aircraft rolled to a slow cruise, Bucky decided to ask his burning question of the king of Wakanda. "Why are we in Scotland?"

With a wide grin, which had him looking suspiciously like a cat who caught the canary, T'Challa said, "We're here for a meeting with the most capable metallurgist in the world. I have a work order for them, my friend, and you need to be there for your fitting."

 _MacLean Metallurgy Est. 1955_

The sign was metal, no surprise, and it was rusted with age exacerbated by the constant dew permeating the country. So far, Skye seemed to be a beautiful place with old charm and at least one tiny village, which they'd landed near. Despite the wild beauty of the region, Bucky wondered why a famous metallurgist would live in such a remote place, besides the peace and quiet. Surely getting industrial materials in such a rural location was difficult- and expensive. Though if T'Challa was right, their work would be worth the long haul and hefty price tag.

He took another glance at the sign on the post. A crest with a medieval looking tower and battlements remained clearly etched with Gaelic words across the bottom.

"Virtue mine honor." Cracked a voice.

Bucky had to reign in his extreme urge to pull out the scalpel he's swiped back in Africa and stab the fuck out of the newcomer. The very _creepy_ newcomer who'd successfully scuttled up to his side, with nary a noise despite the sloppy mud surrounding them.

"Excuse me?" he said calmly, despite the racing of his heart.

"Th' words. Ma clan's sigil. Means, _Virtue Mine Honor_."

Bucky looked down at the hunched old man standing at his side. "You're a MacLean?"

"Ye say tha' like an Irish. Ye, I am!"

Before things got out of hand, Okoye stepped into the exchange, huddled in a cashmere sweater. "Dougal?"

With a jerk the old man straightened as much as he could and looked twenty years younger. "Ack! The lovel _y,_ Okaye!" He even bowed his head low, the old fart.

Bucky met Okoye's eyes over the old man and the woman shrugged with a smile. "Are you really giving Mr. Barnes here trouble, Dougal MacLean?"

"Ack, he looks like a braw lad, he can handle a wee bit o' proddin'."

"As long as it's in good fun." She said as T'Challa stepped up.

"Dougal MacLean," he said with regal airs. "Is the Laird of MacLean and Douglas here today?"

"Aye, Always. Gottae workload I warn, ya, but come on in. I couldnae steer ye clear of here, even if I wanted te." He said this to Okoye and Bucky could see why she'd been the one to join the king.

Old man MacLean had a serious crush.

They entered the old industrial building, complete with old and new forges, kilns and modern metal fabrication stands like rollers, formers and utility shears. Work tables were scattered about, certain stations sat tidy with tools in their places and some with remnants of metal shavings. The room was warm and dry, which was welcome from entering from the gloomy, wet exterior.

A sudden arch of sparks flew from around one of the stations and T'Challa led them towards it. He pulled on some sun glasses and looked directly at the woman currently welding a seam for a…custom mailbox?

This is the famously secret metallurgist he was dragged to Scotland for?

"I dinnae have time for another work order, so turn your tidy arse right 'round." Another arc of sparks shot across the top of the woman's head-slight surprise- and they rained over her back as she spoke with the same sharp accent of old man MacLean.

T'Challa shook his head and smiled at Okoye and Shuri. "How do you know how tidy my ass is, miss Rohna?"

The flames snapped off at once and the woman turned her head their way. She stood quickly and ripped off the welding mask from her head, revealing green eyes and a brilliant smile, both blazing towards the king. "T'Challa! Ach, boy-o, you dinnae ever catch me at a good time, do ye?"

"I arrive precisely when I mean to." T'Challa said with a deep smirk and a wink.

"You right git!" she barked and stepped forward, offering her welcome _Wakanda Forever_ which was returned by the others. "Quotin' Tolkien, really…" She looked charmed though, if Bucky knew a woman's blush- and he once did.

"Well, ye came here all the way from Africa. I cannae well send ye away. Best make it worth ma time." She was sharp and to the point and although Bucky couldn't see her hair color under the bandana, her eyebrows were a deep cooper.

God damn, she was an honest-to-god Scottish ginger, he thought. Already his spirits were lifting.

"I need you to make a metal arm for my friend here." T'Challa began and Bucky quietly sighed out a breath. _Jesus_ …

The king continued. "Our engineering team with Shuri will oversee things from Wakanda, handling mechanics." Shuri grinned proudly and Bucky smirked. T'Challa continued, "The most important part would fall to you, Rohna. I need an arm that protects the mech inside and allows Mr. Barnes here offensive capabilities."

Bucky's suddenly spirits tanked. T'Challa just cut his hopeful flirting legs out from under him.

As if he weren't enough of a gimp, the king just pointed right at his missing appendage. Guess he couldn't fault the guy; at least he would have two arms again. Besides, the gal had eyes and she would have noticed his missing limb soon enough.

He didn't expect those bright minty green eyes of the metallurgist to swing his way and meet his own eyes right then and there. She didn't even glance at his stump.

" _Barnes_ , ye say?"

Bucky was trapped. "Yes, ma'am." And a little smitten.

She scoffed, " _Irish_ American, then." Her feathers looked ruffled but she seemed pacified that he had an American accent. Without a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward and invaded his carefully constructed bubble, which only the Wakandan doctors had recently prodded, albeit with extreme care. The Wakandan kids, he didn't count. They were good.

Rohna got right up close to his chest, which she barely reached, and pulled a tape measure from her pants pocket. She pulled it taut from one of his shoulders to other, then down his remaining arm. It would have been comical how she reached up so high to get the measurement, but then she released one side with a snap and chose to prod both his shoulders. She hummed low in thought, an extremely feminine sound, and Bucky was reminded of the _insane_ amount of time since he'd last gotten laid.

"Lass, yer bums oot the windae if ye doona remember yer other work! Braw boy er' no!"

Whatever spell had wrapped around her was snapped by old man MacLean's odd words and she looked up, meeting Bucky's eyes with her own once more.

"Gran da's right," she barked and tossed down her measuring tape onto a nearby work table. "I got too much te do at the moment."

"Okoye…" T'Challa whispered and the sleek woman at his side was already moving.

"Dougal," Okoye Said softly as she reached the elder MacLean. The old man jerked, eyes once hooded were now alert and positively googly for the svelte Dora Milaje again.

"A-aye, lass?"

"Could I take you for a walk?"

"O' course! I'll show ye the garden! I have some o' meh old work on display…"

Once the old man was out of the room with Okoye, Bucky and T'Challa looked back at Rohna, who was glaring at the king. Shuri, the teen she was, for bored and wandered the shop.

"If ye 'tink ye can get me to do yer biddin' like ma gran da just by flashin' some-" she paused a moment, eyes wide before she waved her fingers Bucky's way- "Some _beefcake_ of a man!"

T'Challa carefully lifted a hand while Bucky raised a brow to the term beefcake. "I'll be too the point, Rohna." The king began, "I've brought you a supply of Vibranium."

If a woman could turn into a puddle, the lady Laird of clan MacLean would have flooded her own workshop in an instant.

"Oh my gods," she murmured and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Y…yer serious? _Mine_?"

"More than enough for those projects, Rohna." T'Challa said with a grin.

"Ye…? Oh, go' damnit!" she barked and rubbed her face before shooting an accusatory finger the king's way. "An accord we have, bai! _But_ I get the shipment _yesterdae_ and ye know I dinnae have room at the house for yer entourage so-

"Don't worry, Rohna, we need to leave today but Shuri will be leaving two technicians behind to assist with construction of the commission. They will stay at the inn in the village. As per usual, just Skype with Shur if you need any info. But of course," he lifted a hand towards Bucky, "I am leaving Mr. Barnes himself. Would you have room for him in your home?"

She looked surprised but she recovered much faster than Bucky had to the revelation. "Ack, T'Challa, ye gift meh with mystical metal from yer homeland _and_ the man of mystery? Is it ma birthday and I dinnae know?"

T'Challa looked like he was having an amazing time, with Bucky as the recipient of a prank. Granted, he knew he deserved every ounce of ire in general, but dropping him on his head in front of an extremely attractive woman? He was bound to trip over his own feet, being so out of practice with the fairer sex. Hell, _she_ was bound to laugh at his sad attempts at flirting.

Bucky must have been frowning when Rohna turned to talk to Shuri because T'Challa smiled at him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't just throw you to the wolves!"

"Jus' one," echoed from across the workshop.

T'Challa sighed but his smile remained. Bucky was slightly annoyed. "You couldn't have given me a heads up?" he hissed quietly.

"I needed the element of surprise," T'Challa said softly as they walked toward the exit. "And you need to be tested, both in your mannerisms and in your body. I will leave behind a doctor to address any issues, but she will not be on your hide. If you have an issue, go to her. The choice to heal is yours, my friend."

Once outside, the sun had come out and rays of light scattered across the green plains, lighting the mountains in the fore. T'Challa raised an arm into the air. "This Skye…it is a place you can heal further, before you come back to Wakanda...we know things are stirring."

As if to highlight this words, the wind whipped up and blew their clothing and Bucky's hair wild.

Once the gust died down, T'Challa continued, "Rohna needs you here to assure the measurements are correct for your new arm housing. Soon that will be replaced and you might feel whole in some way. It is also my hope that she'll keep you on your toes; maybe even help you to heal in another way."

Bucky had taken in everything the king had said, but he faltered at the last, looking away from the snow-capped mountains. "What the hell are you talking about?"

T'Challa laughed hard and stalked gracefully over to the sleek black car they'd arrived in, lifting his hands into a shrug. "Please…get _laid_ , my friend!"

The expressive eye roll James Buchanan Barnes gave the King of Wakanda would go down as the most dramatic of its kind.

Although T'Challa's idea of Bucky finding healing in Skye due to the land itself probably wasn't what he'd had in mind, it was exactly what the soldier needed. Wakandan has its wild beauty and it paved the way to his healing. Scotland had a near untouchable beauty, but it still felt like coming home somehow. He could be whole here.

That first night in Scotland, Rohna brought him into her warm, inviting home, laid out some food and announced she was working late.

"Please mind me manners, Bucky, leavin' ye like this so soon. If ye need anythin', my gran da lives down th' road. If ye need yours trul _ea_ , pick up the landline and dial zero. It'll go right ta the shop." She finally gave him a smile and nodded toward the deck beyond the living area. "Pour yerself a dram o' whiskey, bai, and relax. I want ye ta feel like my home is yers."

So Bucky did as she bid after she left and poured some of the finest whiskey he'd ever tasted- or he could have remembered- and sat back to observe the house- and check for security concerns. Old habits die hard…

He was bothered by the tall, wide windows of the house without one single drape for privacy, but he assumed she didn't have any issues with peeping toms or Hydra agents peering into her home out in rural Skye, especially facing a cliff as they were. The sea rocked far down beyond those windows, so he allowed himself to relax as much as possible.

He spent some time admiring the old home, which managed to be both rustic and modern. Splashes of black and green plaid, as well as white and grey, were scattered within the décor. He could only assume they were her clan colors.

Two days later he was walking with old man MacLean and learned all about their clan history. He'd learned that Rohna, or _Ro_ as Dougal called her, was a Douglas on her mother's side. After that, out of boredom he assured himself, he'd read through some of her house library books to see that the MacLean and Douglas colors did pepper most of the fabrics across her home. Interestingly, the guest room where he was staying was relatively bare, though it did have touches of green and grey.

Over the past week, the food he'd eaten had been good and filling and his bed soft. It was the longest stretch of normalcy he could remember. He had freedom to hike across Rohna's land and he'd even made a friend of a large, slightly broody Collie type of dog.

He didn't know its name since it didn't have a collar. With Rohna gone odd hours, he hadn't had the chance to ask. He assumed it was no issue, since the mystery pup had taken to herding him around the property, nudging him this way and that upon old trails to head back home.

The house itself was nothing like he'd expected. It was an old building but it'd been renovated sometime in the late 90's. The modernized architecture enhanced the classic croft frame and showcased the wide, expansive windows facing the sea from where the house sat high above on a cliff. Bucky took his morning coffee out on the deck, watching the sunrise with the big dog nearby. He wasn't sure if she- he found out later- was allowed indoors but he was sure Rohna wouldn't chop his other arm for it, so in the dog came and slept at his feet.

It was his eighth evening at Rohna Douglas MacLean's home when she suddenly sailed out onto the deck with two glasses of whiskey.

As usual, she seemed to absorb all the energy of the room and he was drawn to it like a moth to the flame. Her eyes were merry today and she seemed in good spirits.

"Ack, my favorite gimpy!" she said it like gimp- _eh_.

Bucky pretended to be offended but it was hard to hold it when she looked so fresh from the shower and had her hair down to dry. She even offered one of the glasses with a sly little twist of her wrist.

"Come on, doll." He managed, "Quite bustin' my balls."

She laughed as she handed over the glass and took a seat next to him on the wicker sofa. Their proximity was comfortable and they sipped the whiskey in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "I've been clearing up my workload, Bucky, so ye'd best thank yer lucky stars I like ye." She said his name with more care, but still rolled the y like Buck- _ae._ It was sexy as hell.

"Oh yeah?" he asked as he set the glass next to Rohna to pat the dog's head near his knees.

The redhead was about to speak but she faltered.

"Uh, hm... Well then,"

Bucky stiffened and sat up straighter. "I hope I didn't take any liberties bringing her inside, Ro-

"No, no!" she barked swiftly, "Ack, no! It's just, that dog...Go' damn, Bucky, she's the devil incarnate."

Bucky lifted a brow and Rohna laughed. "She bites anyone who comes near. I swear she's a Sheltie the way she acts. Even I have te be a wee bit touchy with her- an' she was a gift from me mum 'fore she passed!"

"What's her name?"

"Flora, after the Jacobite sympathizer who-

"Snuck out Scottish Prince Charles to Skye."

Rohna laughed at him with clear approval and whacked his chest playfully. " _Bonnie_ Prince Charles." Bonn- _ae_ she says.

"Right," Bucky added, " _Bonnie_ prince Charles." He said it as Brooklyn as he could manage and the shrill laughter that he drew from Rohna made something in his gut twist pleasantly.

"Ack, you bletherin' flirt! I knew I liked ye." She murmured cheerfully. "So! How was yer week in Skye?"

"I loved it." He said, fully open and honest. "I don't think I've ever been in such an amazing place."

Rohna leaned back into her chair and dangled her leg over the arm of her side of the couch while tucking her tartan more tightly about her- Douglas white and black grey, he noticed. "This land is magic and I'm no' bein' partial, mind ye. Just truth."

Bucky smiled but decided it was time to ask her a question that he hasn't been able to decipher on his own.

"Why exactly did T'Challa bring me here, Rohna?"

If his question threw her off, she didn't show it. Instead she took a sip of her whiskey before speaking. "My great gran da MacLair, an American, invented proto-Adamantium. Accidently. It's some incredibly strong stuff, though he couldnae replicate his blessed mistake. He couldnae figure out the formulae. Howard Stark got his hands on the only sample." She added and looked back at Bucky. "I do believe your friend Captain America wields it…or did, from the sound of that current situation."

Bucky looked interested, so she continued. "MacLair, that old geez…he fell asleep while experimenting with composites- dinnae know how he did _that_ o' course- but he was a metallurgist, true, and he knew his shite. The craft runs in the family, ye see." She said with a hand waving. "Now, the US holds the patent on what they call _true_ Adamantium formulaes, but my grea' gran da MacLair…he trained his nephew, my gran da MacLean who brought it back home to Skye. The secret is kept lock and key- in our memory. Only two of us know it at a time."

Bucky grinned at her. "And you are one of those two."

She grinned right back. "I dinnae know what yer talkin' bout, Bucko."

He hissed like he was hit and Rohna laughed. "I'll be kind then!" She caught his hand and tugged, bringing his eyes back to hers. "As I was sayin' earlier- because I like yeh so much, I've been busy gettin' together composites fer yer arm. And I also…" she glanced over with eyes dark, "I decided to use my Vibranium cache."

Bucky frowned. "You just got that, Ro."

She hummed softly. "Ro, eh?"

He smirked. "Your gramps is rubbing off on me, doll."

Rohna looked pleased and continued speaking. "It's just hunks o' metal. Not even. It's just matrixes." When Bucky looked unconvinced she sighed. "You gettin' whole once more. That's more important than a rock collection, aye? I have a trick up ma sleeve for ye, love."

Bucky didn't know what to say but he knew what he wanted to do. He _wanted_ to pull her onto his lap and kiss her silly. But his one arm was all he had and it was currently held in her hands and he was sure as hell not fucking that up. Besides, she was his hostess. What kind of asshole American just pulls the woman spending her time and energy to make him a workable metal arm, opened her home to him, and he just disrespects her like that? Not him.

He must have gone away again because she was looking at him with concern. Time was a bitch in his mind nowadays and he hissed under his breath. In a heartbeat Rohna had dropped to her knees, pulled the drink away from side and pulled his hand. His once vacant eyes shot to meet hers and she sighed.

"There ye are, darlin'," she looked full on relieved. "Keep the heid for me, will ye?"

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "What?"

"Stay with me." She said softly still. Suddenly she stood and made to pull him to his feet. It was almost comical how she tried to yank _him_ up when she was barely five foot, but he humored her. This got her under his arm, as if to support him and he enjoyed the contact more than he should. She was both soft and hard against him, muscled but feminine despite her hard career. She felt perfect.

"We'll get ye ta bed, love." She said as they got into the house with Flora at their heels. Bucky thought it was funny this hundred and ten-pound soaking-wet woman took charge and unquestioningly dragged his sorry ass to his bedroom. She probably thought he was drunk even after only one drink. At that thought, he frowned.

"Rohna,"

"Hush you," she barked and gave his waist a squeeze. "No belly-achin' in this house. You need te relax."

It was then he noticed she'd tossed her tartan over his shoulders at one point. How long had he been gone this time? Ashamed, he allowed himself to be corralled to bed without further protest.

Rohna got him to his room and he plopped down of his own accord, too shamed to look her in the eye, but that didn't stop her from getting into his bubble. She crouched down and got between his knees. He had to flex his legs, forcefully blocking all the blood he possessed to _not_ head right to his pants.

Her mint green eyes were bright with concern and she tightened the tartan around him with a hard tug. "Do ye ken what happened back there?"

Bucky sighed. "No. I'm here one minute and the next I'm not. I just felt like I was thinking, but when I come back…I'm a few minutes older."

Rohna frowned and her eyes looked concerned for him. "Darlin', ye cannae be doin' that te me." Her hand brushed the unkempt beard on his face. It was hard to shave with only one hand and no real razor. "I'm thinking of how many times ye've done tha' since ye've been here in Skye. Here in ma home when I wasnae with ye."

Bucky shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Ro. It really doesn't happen often."

She looked unconvinced if her eyebrow lifting had any indication. "Either way." She murmured as she stood. "Busy day tomorro', Bucky. Will ye be okay wit me' at the shop?"

"I'll be fine." He said and he even found the will to give her a small smile.

She sighed loudly but leaned down slightly to kiss his rough cheek, even lingering to force it through his beard. "Doonae make me lock ye indoors, now." She threatened softly and backed out of the room, her eyes merry but shaded with concern the whole way.

It was only after she left that he remembered her Douglas tartan of black and white was left over his shoulders. He slept well tucked into her scent, as romantic or as fucked up as that may have been. He slept deeply and without dreams wrapped in a mix of peppermint, lavender and rain.

Please leave a review or favorite! Much love


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, he was up with the sun and because he felt like Rohna was still in the house, he made extra coffee. He knew coffee was not usual fair in the country, but he also knew she adored it and somehow detested tea. He'd carefully folded her mother's Douglas colored tartan and set it on the counter, though he was loath to part with it. It was surprisingly soft wool and still retained Rohna's head-clearing scent.

As he flipped open a book he'd been working through, a door creaked open and out wandered Rohna. Bucky had to keep his mouth from dropping open. She looked like she'd fallen out of bed after a romp.

Her brilliant copper hair was messy mass on top of her head and she looked flushed in the wide black and green tartan wrapped around her body. She was barely clothed beneath it and she looked surprised to see him up.

"Go' damn, man!" she murmured and shuffled close. "Ye made coffe'?"

"Extra for you, doll."

She sighed like a 1940's film vamp and had him struggling to maintain a straight face. "Bucky, I'm no gonna be able to give ye back to yer king when I'm done wit ye."

He watched her pour a cup of coffee and add to it before saying, "He's not my king, but he did keep me safe and he's payin' for your work, doll. I suppose he knows it's safe enough here. I am kind of on the run." He hadn't thought of it, but now? "I hope I'm not putting you and the old man at risk…"

"Yer safe here." She said softly and patted his chest affectionately, eyeing him over the rim of her cup. "And so are we."

Rohna walked back toward her room but stopped when she noticed the Douglas tartan lying on the counter. She reached out and grabbed it slowly, thoughtfully, and glanced back to Bucky who stood quietly watching her. She smiled and walked towards her room without another word.

A week later she gifted him with a present. They'd spent their days getting every single measurement of his arm translated from her hard notes into a computer for controls, to be sent to Shuri for double checks, then passed to the Wakandan duo on site.

Their nights were spent out on the deck of the Skye house, drinking whiskey and talking. She always brought out a wide tartan, but they shared it now. Nights were growing colder and her matrixes were getting heat treated in preparation for the perfected formula. She didn't say what she was up to, but Bucky had an idea.

One morning she stepped up to him as they readied themselves for a brisk morning walk to the shop. From a leather bag she pulled out a freshly made wool tartan. It was incredibly thick and tenderly made. One side bore the distinctive black and green of the MacLeans and the other had the soft but harsh Douglas colors of grey black and white.

Her witchy green eyes met his, filled with excitement at his own dumbfounded look. She knew that he knew the significance of the gift. "Yer one o' my own house, Bucky." _Buckae_.

Rohna tossed it over his head and wrapped it into an infinity knot to protect him from the wind. Blacks, greens and white melded together and she smiled at him affectionately.

"This arm is taking a while, darlin', truly, but I want ye te know…no matter what happens," she looked a little overwhelmed for an instant but she took a deep breath and continued. "My mum passed no' six months ago. She woulda loved ye and she woulda welcomed you into her clan. I can do no less."

With a smart tug on Bucky's new scarf, she dragged his lips down to hers in a neat, firm kiss filled with warmth and affection. They disconnected with a quiet _pop_ and she smiled at him with red cheeks. "She'd also have been pissed had I no' kissed ye after given ye tha'." She met his eyes then. "Yer a good man, Bucky. I'm proud to have ye wearin' ma colors, if you want to keep 'em."

She must have not expected a retaliation, because she nearly squeaked when he dragged her up against his body. His kiss was not soft but it was searching and aching all at once and she responded in kind. The innocent kiss gained traction quickly and suddenly they were too far apart.

Bucky had her against the wall in only moments, with her legs around his waist and her fingers in his hair. Rohna moaned when he dragged his teeth against her neck. "Bucky." _Buckae_.

God damn, her voice sent chills over his whole body. He was helpless against her and he wanted nothing more than to take her to his room and try to give her the same feeling. Preferably he would start at her toes and work his way up…

Shrill ringing of the landline shocked them both and Rohna moaned forlornly. "Fuck i' all…"

Bucky sighed but understood that phone never rang. Something was up. "Should I grab it?"

She smiled softly and used both hands to affectionately scratch his beard. "Nah…I'll get it." At that, she dropped her legs from his waist and he let her slide down the rest of the way. The cat-like grin she gave him told Bucky she had done it on purpose.

"Tease…" he growled and she caught his eye as she pulled the phone from the wall and winked.

"'Lean Douglas house…" she spat off and her eyes widened alarmingly. "…Y-yes! Only a short amoun' o' time." She locked eyes with Bucky and bit her lip. "I-I have this. I need two days for the mold…I said _two days_ , man! I cannae rush this part or ye'll be wishin' ye waited! If ye need to cut more time, git more engineers don here but it willnea help."

Bucky knew at once what was happening and when Rohna hung up the phone with a silent, very quiet move, he was positive. "Something's coming.." He ground out.

She glanced up into his eyes and sighed. "Yea…he didn't elaborate but when a king calls wit fear in his voice...I need te get ye outfitted, Barnes."

He frowned and she grasped the tartan around his neck suddenly. "I ken this thing isnae good for a war…especially no' in African heat." She smiled with a little mist in her eyes and she brushed the Skye wool. "But I will give ye the _most_ badass arm in the history of go' damn fuckin' arm-makin', ye ken?"

Bucky grinned and dragged her up for a firm kiss. "You got this, sweetheart. I never doubted that for a second."

 _ **Heaven's Gate**_

That day and the next, Bucky got a glimpse at just _how_ the MacLean clan earned their underground metallurgy infamy. They possessed a natural _inclination_ for the craft. If gifted by blood and trained at maturity, one of the Clan Maclean could literally control the level of temperatures of any metal. So far, only two in the past few decades could do it. Rohna and her cousin, who had died in Afghanistan, were the only ones of their generation to have the temperamental gift. Old man MacLean was never one of them, but he worked to safely guard the secret of his family and hoped for another to pass on the gift. Rohna was currently the only one.

When Bucky first watched her casually pick up the pan of raging hot metal from her forge without gloves or protection? He about tackled her. She simply barked at him and lifted her elbows in warning.

"If ye touch me' now, yer gonnae need another arm!"

Even though her own hands and arms were glowing red from the 1500 degree temps, she was able to move the metal into proper shape and pour carefully, all the while keeping it stable and prolonging the normal 8-minute flux time of true Adamantium. A skilled metallurgist would have needed every moment but Rohna's gift paid off during this stage; she was not under the normal time constraints.

The individual bands for his arm would have taken weeks for anyone else with the skills and knowhow, but Rohna's mutation allowed her proper time to pour it into the molds she'd made over the last week, while keeping her matrix at 1500 degrees. Her will and careful concentration were still paramount.

At the end of the day, she looked exhausted and announced she needed food and booze. If the looks she gave him as they walked back to her home were anything to go by, she needed him, so he lifted his arm and she practically curled into him.

Now they sat out on the deck with one more day of hard work together before she could ship a nearly completed arm with him back to Africa. Soon he would have to leave Skye and Rohna. He wasn't very excited by that but he'd gotten an encrypted message from Okoye giving him more information. War was about to be upon them and they needed everyone, even the criminals. Looking down at the woman on his arm, he knew he at least had someone in his corner besides Steve. A partner; someone to love in a way he never had. Someone to fight for, he thought, as she looked up and ran her nails over his scalp affectionately.

Love wasn't something he ever thought he'd know; not to this capacity and absolutely not after the mindless Winter Soldier's reign over him.

"Ro," he murmured, embarrassed that his voice came out in a croak.

"I know, darlin'," she hummed. A moment later she hiked herself up to fully straddle him. Her bright green eyes held him in place and her worried red lip told him she was thinking hard right along with him. "I have...have _never_ felt the way I feel when I'm with ya, Bucky." _Buckae_.

He smiled widely and turned his jaw further as she scratched his beard. "I love how you say my name, doll."

Rohna leaned back, catching his eye, and lifted a copper brow. "And…" she began, in an altogether sexy and breathy sound, "what if I screamed it for ye?" she whispered.

He blinked so hard he wondered if she could hear it. "I…"

She blushed and laughed, trying to dispel any tension. "'Was just jokin', love…" she said and his hand dove to her right, to keep her from pulling back with embarrassment. Bucky pulled until she was closer and resting against his chest.

"Babe...you don't just get to tease me and leave."

She was pouting, but it was cute and she was doing it to cover her own revealed feelings. "Shite how strong are ye…one armed an' all tha."

Bucky smiled. "Kinda comes with super serum, doll."

"There'll be no livin' wit ye…" she said with a grin and he loved that she offered him her vulnerability; offered him everything and he was free to lean in or lean away. But he didn't want be even one inch further...

 _Step up, Barnes._ He snapped to himself.

Rohna practically purred when the fingers of his remaining right hand sunk through her hair and pulled her closer. They met in an intense kiss, hot and needy.

From her place on his lap, she bucked and ground down over the hard steel in his pants, not letting up for one instant despite his handicap. He loved her even more for it.

"I'm gonna fookin' _miss_ ya, Bucky." Her accent was thick with emotion and she whined low as he bit her neck under her ear.

"Ditto," he hissed as she ground up against him, controlled and so damn warm, even in the chill of the night. Rohna straight lit his blood on fire. "I don't exactly want to go, baby, but I need to."

"I know ye do...But I need ye before ya go, mo ghràdh." He groaned as she nibbled on his ear and his cock jumped in his jeans when she purred, "Take me ta bed, Bucky."

His hand dove under her ass and he boosted her legs high on his torso just before he surged to his feet. Her sharp laugher burst out but she instantly quieted at the hungry look he gave her.

"I want you in my bed, doll."

"Take me to my bed, darlin, it'll be yours just the same if you ever chose to come back."

If she could cream on a look, she'd have done it for the intense possessiveness in his gaze.

With cat-like grace he shifted his gait and turned down the hallway leading up to her room. The stairs could have been treacherous with how she continued to nibble and lick any inch of skin she could reach, but the man was nothing if not focused. He took the steps two at a time and in moment they had already crossed the threshold into her room.

She'd left a light on near the bed, so he could see the wood walls with white, green and black touches everywhere. Plaid warmed much of the room.

"Did I ever tell you your obsession with plaid is really hot?"

Rohna scoffed and proceeded to scratch his shoulders with blunt nails, managing to be both affectionate and serve as a warning. It only really managed to turn him on even more. "Doona give me flack about ma clan colors, now."

"Understood." He said with a grin and loosened his grip so she could slid down his chest to touch the floor. He loved how she looked up at him, her head tipped back and the very top of her barely reaching his sternum.

With a sly smile she stepped back towards the bed and abruptly yanked her bulky sweater up, over her head. She dropped it to the side and cocked out a hip with her hands on her hips.

Bucky's jaw dropped along with the sweater.

Rohna arched her brow coolly but quickly lost composure at his blank stare, which had her barking out a laugh. "You like, mo ghràdh?" She spun for him playfully and began to remove her pants.

She wore a no-frills black bra bra with stripes of green plaid covering the sides of the cups. He didn't look at it for long, though. He was more interested in what they held and the rest of her skin being slowly revealed.

"Rohna," he trailed off when he saw that she wore a matching black and green plaid g-fucking-string. "Jesus H. Christ…" he groaned.

"Stop tryna make me laugh!" She snapped without bite, hiding a blush. A huge grin managed to push through and held out her hand.

He looked up at her smiling face from panties and grasped her outstretched fingers. "Would...you help me out, doll? I could stand here and wrestle this shirt off if you want but…"

She snickered as she stepped closer to unzip his light jacket, which fell to the floor. "As funny as that would be, I'd rather get ma hands on ye sooner." Her fingers dug gently under the hem of his shirt and she started pulling it up over his head, careful to get as much skin contact as she could.

By the time she'd gotten the shirt most of the way off, she clammed up and just looked at him. He got it over his head and looked down to a flushed looking Rohna. She'd just dropped his pants when she got an eye full of his apparent arousal under his briefs.

Rohna looked _hungry_ and possessive as she reached out both hands and ran them over his skin. By the time she reached his shoulders she was panting softly and her eyes, even her hair, looked wild. It took great effort on his part not to tackle her.

"You, mo ghràdh, are the sexiest man I've ever laid ma eyes on."

At that confession, Bucky's control snapped. He pulled her against his body and walked them back toward the bed. She flopped back onto it without much persuasion and she arched her back to reach for her bra clasp. With a sigh she relaxed and pulled an arm out of each side, keeping her breasts hidden slyly.

"Vixen." He growled and she preened.

"Well mo ghràdh, I cannae have my tits out in the chill air now can I?"

He leaned over her, propped by the one arm and wished he could help her yank the bra off. Instead, she took pity on him and flung it to the side, revealing pale boobs dusted with freckles.

He groaned but could do little else so she bounded up and pushed him onto his back. She suddenly stood above him as he lied still, dick hard in his pants. She shimmied out of her panties and smirked when his mouth dropped open a second time.

She straddled him quickly but he kept his eyes on the very well groomed region above her pussy. "Never could say no to ma friend who does that waxing shite. They call 'em 'Brazilians'."

His one hand fell to her soft skin there and she bucked softly, not expecting such a gentle touch so soon. "God you're gorgeous, Ro."

"I'm just naked, mo ghràdh."

He brushed the hood of her clit and she shivered, rotating her hips before she snagged his hand. "I doona need any care, mo ghràdh, I'm well ready." To show him, she guided his fingers to her pussy and he dipped in two fingers, causing them both to groan.

"Fuck." He growled and she whined softly. His hand came away with wetness and he groaned again. "Baby…"

"Mo ghràdh," she purred and swiftly dragged off His boxers. His hands became preoccupied with her breasts, palming one as she straddled his hips, but he stopped to look down as she palmed his dick in her hand.

Bucky inhaled as she guided his cock into her, stretching her well enough with his size, though he suspected it'd been a while for her too. She moaned and grasped his hand with both of hers, guiding it to her chest.

Suddenly she was filled, his dick seated inside and they cried out. Together they moved and as hard as it was to be an active partner with his one arm, Bucky was still able to get some thrusting beneath as she rode him.

Rohna painted and moaned, her pussy wet and clenching but she seemed like she needed more. With a lurch, Bucky sent her to her back and pushed her to her side. She cried out in weak protest, but it died in her throat as he managed to thrust deeper still.

"Mo ghràdh!" She cried and Bucky leaned back to grasp her leg, pulling her up higher. The angle did much for them both and he continued pounding in and out, spurred on by her encouraging whines. Suddenly she murmured and grabbed at his neck.

"Oh god!" She gasped and he could feel her hips cant. She was close.

With a groan he flipped her just a little so he could lift her up, her back against his front with them both on their knees. Here he was able to touch her with his hand while holding her up. His fingers found her swollen clit and she whimpered, grinding her ass back into him.

"Fuck baby" he growled and bit her ear with a solid buck of his hips. She burst.

"Ah!" She screamed and her pussy clamped down on him. "F-fuck!"

He gave her no reprieve, continually rubbing her clit and biting her neck. Finally she pushed his hand away and she leaned forward, exposing her ass and showcasing their union to his greedy eyes.

"Fuck, Rohna." He wasted no time grasping beneath her right hip, thrusting home repeatedly until they were both panting with need.

I'm almost no time at all she was crying out, "Yes, mo ghràdh!" He faltered a moment when he belatedly thought about protection.

"Fuck, Ro…I need to pull out."

She nearly growled "Ye betta no!" as she pulled him down for an awkwardly angled but very wanted kiss. "I've go' an iud." Somehow he knew exactly what that meant, so he didn't need anymore information.

He resumed thrusting so suddenly it drew a sharp yelp of surprise from Rohna. He caught her eye and she looked flushed- and gorgeous beneath him. When she grinned he couldn't help but smile back. She playfully bucked against him, tightening her leg so he thrust harder and faster, picking a rhythm that _really_ worked for them.

He moans surprised him on, helpless not to follow the delicious clench of her needy sex. When she clenched around him again and arched into him, he couldn't hold back.

"R-Rohna!" He groaned harshly as rope after rope of warm cum leg him and he knew he'd never felt that before; bad memory or not. With a sigh he leaned his head forward and she hummed contentedly beneath him..

"That, mo ghràdh," she began, "tha was pure barry." Her accent was intense as she caught his eye. He was worried it would feel awkward, but really he felt even more at home with her, sated. Together and safe.

A thought pulled through his brain belatedly and he said, "what does that mean? Pure Barry?"

"It means you were bloody fantastic, mo ghràdh."

He couldn't resist a big grin as he withdrew from her and the both hissed at the loss. She pecked a kiss on his lips and sprang up, carefully of the mess on, and in. He heard the tap running and he relaxed into the rumpled pillows and blanket.

He spotted the rag before it hit him and snatched it with a smirk.

"Seeing if ye reflex's are straight, mo ghràdh."

As she dragged on a T-shirt and he wiped himself down, he frowned and asked, "What does that, mo gra…ha," he gave up and she grinned. "That's Gaelic right?"

Her eyebrow lifted in appreciation and she nodded before hopping into bed to snuggle up under the blankets. "Gaelic, yea. It means...well, it's a term of endearment. It means, 'my darlin' or…'my love'." She glanced up from her eyelashes and saw his intense look. "It's reserved for lovers. For your truest partner."

Rohna laughed at herself nervously and tried to roll away but he held her there, encouraging her to look up. When she finally relented and he saw the vulnerable look in her eye, his chest hurt.

"Ro…" his voice was gravely but it seemed to ground her all the same and she continued.

"I...want to call you tha', Bucky. Would you be okay with me callin ya my lover ?"

Bucky leaned his head forward and she held until they rested against one another. "More than anything, sweetheart."

She had the most incredible blush blazing under her freckles when she sighed aloud and dragged him back into the bed.

"White boy!"

Bucky blinked and glanced up at the teenager glaring at him. "Shuri." He grumbled.

With a put-upon sigh and huge eyes showcasing her annoyance, Shuri waved her hands. "Well? Look down! Tell us how it feels!"

Bucky did look down and started.

His arm… it was back but _better_.

He must have looked boggled or something because Shuri and Okoye were laughing together with T'Challa who was looking incredibly pleased.

"Rohna has outdone herself, my friend."

Bucky found himself grinning and nodded, turning the arm and flexing. It was then he spotted some spot of color between the folds in the inner wrist. He extended his forearm and made a fist, extended it back and intricate metallic black and green flashed within the mesh protecting the interior of his new arm.

Curious, he did the same for the top of his arm, flexing his fist down and exposing white and black.

"Plaid?"

Shuri's curious voice had him grinning even wider between the plates there. It was subtle but it was clear enough to someone close. "MacLean and Douglas plaid." He said with a grin.

Okoye smiled even wider. "It seems that our resident white boy has made a good impression on our favorite prickly Scot."

Laughter surrounded him. "You mean ol' man MacLean?" More laughter.

Meanwhile Bucky was couldn't deny a word. Nor did he want to.

"She is something." Okoye said to him softly as Shuri and T'Challa messed around and spoke to some engineers nearby about more prototypes.

"She is." He said quietly and flexed, extended his arm to see the plaid shimmer through the metal. His bonnie lass had laid her claim. He was only too pleased to own it, though he wished she could see her handiwork.

"You should FaceTime her."

He glanced over at Shuri with a puzzled expression. "Face _what_?"

The teen sighed heavily and walked out. "This boy…"

Thats if for now! Thanks for reading! Please leave a reviews, they are like sunshine.


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